[COLOR=GRAY][INDENT][INDENT][i][quote][color=FFFFFF]"So, Lucille. Why do you think I called you in today?"[/color][/quote]
Luce paused. Dr. Lehrer exuded an aura of calm and welcome, but there was an edge of absolute control that creeped up behind you if you paid enough attention. Luce was carefully attuned to the fine-print of people around her; she spent a lot of time slipping through it, tip-toeing cautiously around the peripheries of attention. Only step into notice when absolutely necessary. Otherwise, skirt beneath it.

No such luck stuck in a stuffy, sparsely-decorated office under the ever-watchful eye of P.R.C.U. Chancellor Jonas Lehrer, eyes twinkling as they stared you down like a hawk watching a particularly bold-feeling field mouse. The hairs on the back of Luce's neck stood up, and she suppressed a shiver.

[color=9370D8]"To learn about me."[/color] She finally answered, and was surprised when Jonas chortled rather suddenly, his guffaw devolving into a cough as he reined himself in and re-gathered his composure.
[color=ffffff]"Ah, Ms. Calder,"[/color] he replied, clearing his throat, [color=ffffff]"you make it sound so...academic. Like this is all in the name of research."[/color]

Luce raised a single eyebrow, genuinely confused.
[color=9370D8]"With respect, Dr. Lehrer - is it not?"[/color]
Jonas shrugged in a gesture of defeat, leaning back in his chair, all the while his gaze never breaking.
[color=ffffff]"What do you understand this institution to be, Lucille?"[/color]
Luce's mouth twitched near-imperceptibly. He kept using Lucille. It was what her mother had taken to calling her after the...after. No one called her 'Luce' anymore. She rolled her shoulders slightly, feeling that edge of control creeping down her back again.
[color=9370D8]"A school."[/color] She answered, curt and withdrawn. Jonas nodded, but said nothing, just let the silence hang in the air. [color=9370D8]"A boot camp."[/color] She said, Jonas only continuing to nod slowly, solemnly. She felt mocked, and could feel heat in her cheeks. [color=9370D8]"A [b][u]lab.[/u][/b]"[/color]

Jonas stood, still taking those slow, ponderous nods, his eyes off Luce now but his attention never wavering. He walked toward the office door, pausing ever-so-subtly by the shelf-ful of folders as he did so, almost in an act of contrition toward Luce's accusatory outburst. 
[color=ffffff]"A lot of students feel trepidations in their first few weeks, Lucil-"[/color]
[color=9370D8]"It's [b][u]Luce[/u][/b]."[/color] Luce demanded, suddenly standing and all bristles, anxiety and uncertainty discarded in the wake of self-assertion.

Jonas smiled the warmest smile he'd worn since she'd stepped in, and Luce immediately felt like she'd played right into his hand. The wind was sucked out of her at the realisation, and she relaxed her posture, almost amused by how meticulously he had lead her through the tension that had now been thoroughly deflated.
[color=ffffff]"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Luce. I'm looking forward to getting to know you better during your education with us."[/color] He opened the office door, gesturing with his arm in a gentle invitation to leave. [color=ffffff]"Do let the next pupil know I'll be ready for them shortly."[/color][/i][/INDENT][/INDENT][hr][CENTER][img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1070792705547980842/1079900445021057155/Lucille_Banner.png[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=lightgray][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]Community Farm[/I] - [I]P.R.C.U. Campus[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=lightgray][b]The Homecoming Trials #1.22:[/b][/COLOR] [I]Grounding Techniques[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][color=lightgray][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] [I]None[/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=SILVER][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [I][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5428663]In Vivo[/url][/I][/right][/SUP]
[INDENT][quote]All she needed first was a deep breath.[/quote]
Perhaps a deeper one that what she'd taken. 

The assembly had been fine - standard fare - nothing Luce hadn't expected from the opening of the semester. The usual platitudes, the national anthem (which she sung easily, being reminded of her elementary school days, though she heard several murmured, fumbled, or incorrect lyrics amongst the crowd), an opening address by the figureheads of the university's faculty. Cass, whom she'd recognised by virtue of shared lingering around the campus ahead of the start of term, had sat next to her, sporting his own Blackjack armband. He nodded politely, which she returned. She was glad he was as content to sit silently as she was - others (that she noticed, much to her chagrin, shared the Blackjack armband) weren't quite so self-aware.

It had all spiraled away from her with the announcement of the Homecoming Trials, and the revelation of a weekend retreat upon which she had been forcibly conscripted. The mere mention of the Southern Plateau injected ice into her veins, and she felt rooted to the spot while the rest of the student body slowly filtered out of the stadium stands; her knuckles went white where she gripped the sides of her seat, her brain tumbling over itself as it processed the development. On the verge of a panic attack, Luce heard Dr. Mercia's words, echoing in the back of her head. [i]Ground yourself. Deep breaths. Five things you can see. In through the nose. Five things you can hear. Out through the mouth. Five things you can feel.[/i]

The attack subsided, and Luce opened her eyes taking a few more shaky breaths as the crowd continued to move around her. Carefully, she stood up, her feet and legs feeling heavy as she willed them to take one step after another, dragging herself finally out of the stadium amongst the final dregs of pupils filtering out. From the gates of the arena, the walk back to her dorm room felt impossibly long, but with each new step the anxiety lessened, and as she passed by the farm block on her way and saw the greenhouse in the distance, she felt calm and in control. The dragon loomed in the back of her mind, agoraphobia threatening to spill over, but she knew she could stem the flow, dam it so as to only let trickles through rather than flood completely. By the time she'd made it to the dorm room it was with a newly-steeled outset. P.R.C.U. was a new beginning; she could not let that fresh start be tainted by the past she so desperately sought to leave behind. 

Otherwise this was all for nothing. 
[/INDENT][/INDENT][/COLOR]